


Jog My Memory

by Meowser_Clancy



Category: Ghost Whisperer
Genre: F/M, Love, Memories, Oral, another life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 23:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowser_Clancy/pseuds/Meowser_Clancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Other ways that Sam remembered. Tag to 4x09: Pieces of You, and that scene where Melinda walks in on Sam getting changed. Tiny tag to 4x2: Big Chills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jog My Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostwhispererfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwhispererfangirl/gifts).



_Sorry?_

_Sorry for being naked?!_

As Melinda walked into the house after confronting the girl from the well, she pondered on Sam's last words.

She remembered the view, fanning her face a little.

This was Jim they were talking about. Or it should have been.

She sank down on the stairs, unable to wait longer, letting herself be swept away by a memory. God, had that only been two months ago?

She'd come home early, just as she had today, quiet because Jim's car wasn't out front and subdued because she was missing him after he'd been on the night shift.

And then she'd walked into the bedroom and he hadn't been wearing anything but a towel...

"Jim?" Melinda dropped her purse, staring at him. "But...your car wasn't out front!"

"Bobby thought I looked sleep deprived and gave me a ride home," Jim said, walking forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Why the surprise?"

"I didn't expect to see you," she said, watching greedily as he moved back across the room. "Are you just out of the shower?"

"Hadn't gotten in yet," he admitted, the towel around his hips getting ever lower as he bent to grab his white undershirt and put it in the laundry basket.

"Can I join you?" She whispered, walking forward to slide her arms around his waist.

"If a day ever comes that I say no that question, just shoot me," he whispered.

"You said no yesterday," she reminded. "I came home before your shift and you left me hanging, Jim."

She pressed her lips into his back. "It's not just about making babies," she whispered. "That window may have closed, but god, you look hot in this towel."

He laughed a little, turning in her arms. "Someone's feeling excited," he whispered, eyes dark, traveling down her body.

"And eager," she said, nodding up at him. "I had the most miserable day and I really didn't think you'd be here and my god, you're a sight for sore eyes in that towel."

"Stop complimenting me, I can't take it," Jim mumbled, leaning down to capture her lips in his. Her hands crept down to his towel as their lips met, and she slipped the tucked end out, and the towel pooled at his feet.

He chuckled against her lips, pulling them hungrily into his mouth, sucking at her tongue, until she moaned.

She reached down between them and took him into her hand, stroking from tip to end, massaging him.

Jim moaned, deep in his throat, and she wanted to suck the sound up; felt like she had. His hands were on her neck, delicately playing on her throat, until they slid down to her breasts, and then around to the zipper on her dress, tugging it down.

* * *

In present time, drunk on the memory, Melinda started to tug at her dress's neckline, remembering that it didn't have a zipper and, reaching for the hem started to tug it over her head, casting it on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, turning to ascend them in her underwear.

* * *

She felt him finish unzipping her; his hands were on her now bare lower back. She held him tight,

making him moan again, as he shifted her dress down over her shoulders. She had to let go of him then, and wiggled the rest of the way out of her dress.

Jim's eyes were dark as he looked at her, only wearing her underwear now; a matching set of pink panties and bra from Victoria's Secret.

He loved this set; the bra opened in the front, like a secret just for him. She couldn't even count the number of times he'd undone it now.

He reached out, his fingers deftly finding the hidden clasp and undoing it…

* * *

Melinda reached behind her, finding the hooks on her bra; a plain black one, arching her back as she undid it, almost able to imagine it was Jim doing it, missing him so much it was like an ache in her throat.

She turned and it was like he was in the upstairs hallway with her, just watching her undress. That almost never happened; he needed to have an active role in disrobing her, but sometimes...some nights...he'd just lay back and watch, eyes dark with lust, only getting harder.

* * *

Her breasts spilled into his hands and Melinda moaned as he took one into his mouth almost immediately, bending her over his arm and tugging at one sensitive tip, laving it with his mouth.

She arched her back even more, only pushing her breasts higher, towards him, towards what he could do to her.

She wanted...needed him to raise her higher.

She had a feeling they'd never make it to the shower.

They fell back onto the bedroom floor, not even making the bed, and she could feel him hard, pressing against her thigh.

She wanted him. She wanted him in her mouth, she wanted to show him how much she wanted him.

His mouth was still on her breast though, and it was a little hard to remember that intention. The insistent throb of his erection on her thigh, though, finished her resolve and she threaded her hands into his hair, pulling his head up.

"Mel?" He rasped, barely able to get the word out.

"I want to do you," she whispered, gently pushing back onto his back.

"Mel…" He trailed off, as she crawled between his thighs, his eyes almost black with desire now. "Good god," he whispered, as she pressed his thighs open with her shoulders, as she lowered her head, her mouth to his member.

"You're so big," she whispered, blowing the words over him. "Have I ever told you how fucking satisfied I am every time I see you naked?"

"I don't know," he said, and she pressed a kiss to the tip, making him moan.

"Just your shirt off," she whispered. "It makes me so wet. But your pants too? A girl can't even take that."

She took him into her mouth, coating him. Jim bucked against her, gasping, and she reached with her hands, caressing the parts that wouldn't fit in her mouth. He reached out and slid his fingers into her hair, as if trying to hold on.

"Mel...I'm going to...come," he panted, and she stroked him more, swirled her tongue over him.

He gasped, spurting into her mouth, and Melinda, satisfied, swallowing, let him slide free of her mouth, letting him rest in her hands again.

"You know that I'll have to return that favor now," Jim whispered, eyes still closed, riding out his orgasm. "That was...amazing."

"It was meant to be," she replied.

He opened his eyes, seeing her still poised there, and swallowed, lifting her hands to his mouth and kissing them before gently switching their positions and moving his hands to her thighs, finding her panties.

"You're soaked through," he whispered, grinning, pressing a kiss to her wet panties. "Atta girl."

She whimpered a little as he slid them up and then down her thighs, casting them away.

* * *

Melinda slid her panties down her thighs, the same plain black as her bra, leaving them in the doorway to the bedroom and spreading herself on the floor, in the exact spot Jim had taken her into his mouth and made her come.

She closed her eyes tight, concentrating, feeling her heart cry out for him even as she did so. This hurt so much to do...yet hurt even more not to.

She reached a hand down, gasping at how ready she was, just from the memory of him. She bit her lip tight, hard, slipping a finger inside herself, her body immediately protesting, saying that it wasn't large enough, or rough enough to be Jim's finger; not damp enough or hot enough to be his mouth…

* * *

"Melinda, I'm never going to get over you...this…" Jim whispered hoarsely, spreading her legs as she had his, lifting one lithe leg over his shoulder, and leaning his head down.

She cried out as he placed his mouth on her, grabbing his head to keep her steady, but all she wanted was to let go.

He was taking his time, teasing her, and it was almost the anticipation that brought her closer, until his mouth finally closed over her core.

She pulsed around his lips, and he made a shuddering moan.

"Come on," she panted. "I need this."

He licked at her, cleaning her, and she screamed at the touch.

"'More," she begged. "I need more...I can't make it…"

* * *

She was busy, Sam reminded himself. She'd said she had to go.

Still, he found himself on her porch, knocking on the door lightly before noticing that it wasn't completely closed and he found himself pushing it open.

He stepped inside, about to call her name, announce his presence, when he saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

The dress she'd been wearing was puddled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

He blinked, his mouth suddenly very dry, a certain part of his anatomy springing to life inside his pants.

God help him, he was head over heels for this young widow.

He picked up the dress, all see through and rough against his fingers, remembering the vision of her in it, the kinky hair; how she'd curled it today and my god, he couldn't get over how she'd looked with it.

He pressed the dress to his face, inhaling, and then his eyes spotted her shoes on the landing.

He started to walk up the stairs, feeling like he'd played this game before.

The shoes were like an arrow pointing up; he turned and saw something that had to be bra cups in the hallway.

This was a path he had no right to tread, but his body pushed him on, until he could crouch and pick up the bra; plain and black.

He looked ahead, to what he was pretty sure was the bedroom and right there, in the doorway, were her panties.

He froze, swallowing, wondering if she was in the shower; if she undressed like this often.

He stepped forward, movements stiff from how hard he'd become.

He heard a moan, a very distinct moan, and instead of driving him away, it pushed him onward, until he reached the panties and left them there, not caring suddenly for the sight in front of him.

Melinda was spread on the floor, fingers deep inside herself, breasts jumping as she tried to make herself come.

He had never seen such a sight.

"I can't," she suddenly whimpered. "I can't make myself come." She sounded broken; there was a sob in the words, and she was pulling her fingers out. "Jim, I couldn't do it."

His dazed mind responded to that name, as if a new part of his brain woke up at being called it, and he stepped forward, falling to his knees in front of her.

Her eyes flew open, saw him there, flushed, tried to cover herself, clamp her legs shut but Sam had none of it, pushing her legs back open, settling himself between them and reaching up to fondle her breasts as he did so, knowing that this would help her relax again, knowing that it would be enough to make her let him place his mouth on her.

She moaned as his fingers pinched at her nipples, but her thighs were still tense.

Sam pressed a kiss to the soft skin there, wedging her thighs open with his shoulders, until she finally, slowly, began to relax.

He lowered his mouth to her.

She moaned, low and deep, her hands furrowing deep into his hair, pulling at it.

He let his lips find her, pull at her, suck on her, and she finally started to react again, dampening again beneath his ministrations….

* * *

She could feel Jim smile at her cries, and renew his movements, until she came in a shatter of stars. "Jim," She cried. "Oh my god, Jim."

He leaned up to kiss her, capturing her mouth, pulling her on top of him, and then they both rested there, naked and sweating, panting...waiting for round two...

* * *

Sam's tongue swirled within her, trying to bring her closer, desperate to give her the release she needed right now.

Her fingers were threaded in his hair, pulling at the roots, as she tried to let herself come, let herself relax enough through him.

He slipped his fingers in with his mouth, only trying to bring her closer. She had to. He had to make her come. It was a test that he hadn't even been aware of but if he couldn't…

He brought one of her legs over his shoulder, angling his mouth better, deeper, feeling her legs clench around his shoulder.

And then, finally, she came, crying out, almost weeping at her release.

Sam pulled away, mouth dripping with her, and she stared at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" She rasped, her eyes wide.

"Not being naked enough," he replied, and pulled his shirt over his head.

They were both ready for round two.


End file.
